


Tintinnabulation

by Ember Nickel (primeideal)



Series: Lost for Words [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Constrained Writing, Gen, Lipogram
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-21
Updated: 2012-02-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primeideal/pseuds/Ember%20Nickel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This plot was in my mind for many months, but I did not sit down and start typing it all out until just now. A visit to St. Mungo's, lipogram on E. Originally written January 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tintinnabulation

I think it's Monday by now. I lost count. I actually want to do schoolwork—how ridiculous is this? It's autumn, I should curl up in my Hogwarts dormitory, book lying in my hands as I idly play with my quill. Or rush to Transfiguration class, copying down McGonagall's main points. Or fly, obviously.

I didn't think I'd miss that rhythm so much. What will I do upon graduation? Or will our world fall too far apart to plan? I'm not so arrogant as to think I'm an important part of what's going on. But if I'm a victim, it's not just bad luck—this is  _big_.

I could look at my books, but I can't try wandwork for a month or so. What about my finals? After so much madcap cramming two Mays ago it's frustrating just to sit through hours of nothing to do.

_It wasn't fatal. It won't scar. I'm okay. I'm probably in a good location, away from attack for now. I'm lucky, I'm lucky, I'm..._

Who am I kidding?

"Visitor for you." What? My family isn't coming back until Friday. No way it's Friday. Or is it?

"Who is it? And, also, what day is it?"

"That bad, huh?" cracks a sardonic arrival. "It's Sunday."

"Oh, not  _you._ Go away."

"What good will that do? I want to talk to you?"

"Oh? That's too bad. I don't want to talk to you. And I'm lying down, stuck in St. Mungo's, but you can walk around and stuff. I think my opinion wins."

"Okay. It's not important. But I'm curious. How many Gryffindors would visit you?"

Um, about that. "My...I don't know that many young kids. And my class is busy studying."

"Isn't it sort of sad that I'm willing to visit you? And nobody from Gryffindor is?"

"What's sad is that...no, that's right, it's sad that you don't want to study or do anything for your own good." A thought jumps through my mind. "Oh, and I'm coming back for a Quidditch match if not two, so don't think you can filch any tactics."

"I didn't. Our janitor can do all of that on his own."

"...that wasn't a pun. Now scram."

"What would you do if I was looking for your...I don't know, aid?"

"My aid? Ask who you actually want to talk to, I can hardly stand up on my own."

"Okay, good—" is that a  _grin_? "So I won't ask for it."

"Wondrous. Now,  _scram._ "

"But—it's just...you said you might not go back to Hogwarts until your last match? By that point, it's almost graduation. I just think it's sad that I didn't know you any."

"You think it's sad? How long did I put up with your blood purity rubbish? Or can't you count that high?"

"That's my point, if I try talking to you you just sink to trivial insults. Why did I think this was worth it?"

"I don't know."

Malfoy, at last, turns to go back out. "Good luck with stuff."

"Thanks," I sigh.

And, too slowly for my liking, things go back to normal. (Ironic, isn't it, I was so quick to warn Harry about how just sticking with old skill is risky?) Mostly, I think nothing of that dialog.

But a small part thinks it  _was_ touching of him to drop by.


End file.
